Maybe Tonight We Can Stop Dreaming
by maraudings
Summary: I can't stand it to think my life is going so fast and I'm not really living it. - Ernest Hemingway \\ for livvy, spring exchange '13


**title: **maybe tonight we can stop dreaming  
**author: **alex (maraudings)  
**rating: **t  
**word count: **1,877  
**disclaimer: **all characters belong to lisi harrison. and the quote at the end is from italian poet dante alighieri  
**a/n: **livvy! i hope you like this. your prompts gave me so many ideas it was hard to choose which to expand on. this got a little weird towards the middle, but i was kind of aiming for weirdness, i suppose. also- i did look for any typos, but i'm sure there still are some. try to ignore them if you see it. you should know what i mean. anyway, enjoy!  
**prompts:** granny panties, feathers, pollen, and "you're not doing it right."

* * *

_- maybe tonight we can stop dreaming -_

* * *

There was a tradition at his school.

On the night of Graduation, after they've walked across the stage and completed the last official Briarwood Academy sanctioned event, the newly christened alumni take over the night.

He had heard stories about this night from his sister. Cliques no longer existed, and the lines of the high school hierarchy blurred as they celebrated together. It was, for most, the last night all members of their graduating class would see each other for a long time.

The event lasted the entire night and into the morning, taking place at various locations around town. And like most other celebrations, this one came with booze and debauchery.

The planning started around Spring Break. Naturally, being where he was in the social standings, he heard every rumored detail. Layne Abeley was getting her brother to rent a manor for them. Griffin Hastings was hitting up his dealer to keep them well satisfied the entire night. Clarisse Rochester reportedly nabbed the keys to her dad's luxury RV for driving people around.

The more people talked about, the more excited they became.

Commencement itself was forgettable. All of the speakers (Principal, School Board Representative, Superintendent) used recycled speeches. The performances were forgettable. Chris Plovert, current ASB president for the next twelve hours, wasn't even allowed to give the two page speech he prepared due to time restrictions and was instead permitted to introduce the national anthem. The highlight of the evening would probably have been the wannabe class-clown attempting to twerk after receiving his diploma.

But no one really cared. After retrieving their caps and from where they were haphazardly thrown and posing for the allotted number of pictures with family and close friends, they were out of there.

Bigger things awaited.

-x-

Chris Abeley did not, in fact, rent out a manor for them. Instead, he secured them half of their night at the small amusement park.

But because alcohol and heavy machinery do not mix, Derrick was unable to find anyone with a drink on them. It was reportedly all being saved for their second and more party-friendly location. As well intentioned as this rule may have been, it had him in a sour mood.

With all his friends off dominating in laser tag, he was left to wander the park by himself. He found himself strangely isolated. If buzzed, there's no question that the more sociable, star soccer captain persona would emerge. As it was, he is sober and bitter.

He felt as if the past four years of his life were wasted. Sure, he was well-liked by his peers and yes, his athletic and academic prowess had earned him numerous scholarships and eventually a spot at his top choice school, but so what? Why wasn't he out in the world yet? Why did it feel like he has not accomplished anything of worth?

Taking up a perch on the fence bordering the main path of the outdoor space, he watched as the faces he had been looking at for four years passed in front of him, smiling and laughing. For some of them, that was the very last time he would see them. Here, right now, was the last time he would see them.

_Shit,_ he thought. Someone get him a drink before he wrote a soap opera.

He was about to leap from the fence and go take solace at the food table (which was mostly several fresh pizzas provided free of charge from their favored hang-out Slice of Heaven) when he saw her.

She was alone, like he was. She appeared miserable and bored, as he was sure he did. And she was exquisite, like she always had been.

It was an opportunity he wasn't about to pass up. He had missed too many other chances to speak with her in recent years, and fuck it all if he was about to add one more regret to his already decent-sized list.

"Hey." He had to admit that the lighting provided by the strings of Christmas lights was flattering. She met his gaze and offered up a small smile and nod of the head in a greeting. _Say more_. "Having fun?" _Obviously not._

She smiled weakly a second time. "Not exactly." A sharp exhale through her slender nose. "I mean, that sounds lame, I know. Why can't I just enjoy this? It's the last time we'll get to do this—well, not the last time really, because I'm sure we'll spend the entire summer partying—but I mean it's the last time I'll see _everyone_. Like the kid who let me copy off his test in bio, and the girl who seemed to spend the entirety of first semester mouth-breathing from the seat behind me in history. I never got to know them. I never got the chance to find out what they do with their free time, or if they have pets. _Fuck_. I just feel like I missed out and someone really great slipped through the cracks."

For a bit they were both silent, mostly because he did not know how to console her on this. But he knew what she meant. He understood what she felt.

"I mean," she continued, "I don't normally get sad about things like this. I'm not sure why I'm feeling like this."

"It's probably allergies," he said, gesturing to the air. "You know, the pollen."

She smiled at this. "Pollen, right."

"I mean, personally I've never been greatly affected by allergies, but I've heard they can be a real bitch. Once Cam's eyes got so red and itchy he couldn't leave his house for nearly two days."

"How unfortunate for him."

"At the time I didn't think so. See, he was amassing an army of toy soldiers so large that it put my position as supreme ruler of the sandbox in jeopardy. With him indisposed I was free to reign and of course steal his troops from the hole he hid them in."

She laughed, and it was a pleasant sound that helped to alleviate the absence of inebriation. "I had forgotten how much I liked talking to you. Why did we never hang out once during high school?"

He shrugged in response. "I think you were at the mall."

"Shut up," she hit his arm. "I am not that shallow anymore, I'll have you know. I got into Berkeley, and they have a strict 'no vapid' rule."

He paused at this. "Wow. Berkeley on the other side of the country Berekely?"

"Yep," she said. "I'd be there. All alone. By myself. Shit, that's a little terrifying."

"It is. I don't think you're going to manage out there all alone, by yourself."

"You're not doing it right, you know. You're supposed to be telling me that I can do it, that I will be fine, because I am confident and capable and _great_."

"How can I tell you what I don't know for sure?" He questioned. "You've had the past four years to be filled with false promises. You are confident and capable and great, but that doesn't always guarantee success."

"Maybe I prefer the false promises."

He said nothing to this. From his left he heard the roaring of the small engines powering the go karts. Shouts and laughter accompanied the noise, and Derrick had an idea. "You know, it's kind of lame that we're both sitting to the side, not participating in anything. I'm sure Abeley had to work really hard to get this place for us through the night."

"What do you suggest?"

He motioned with his head towards the track.

"Go karts?" She paused, considering. "You're on, Harrington."

She insisted, of course, upon racing separately despite his offer to ride together. Which he expected (he only offered to be chivalrous). They raced with the wind whipping through their hair and across their faces. They laughed above the puttering of the engines. And for a moment they both forget of their anxiety and regret.

She beat him, of course. Which he expected.

When their race was finished, she pulled him into a hug, which he did not expect. She told him thank you, and that she'd look for him at the next location.

He said he would look for her, too.

-x-

The second location was a lake house.

Granted, a five bedroom, four bathroom lake house with a state of the art sound system perfect for occasions such as these and a fully stocked liquor cabinet. He got the drink he had been so desperately craving.

It was a little past two in the morning when they arrived, and not soon after two-thirty vases were overturned and beer stains spotted the rugs. Brushing a feather from one of the many torn pillows from his face, Derrick surveyed the throngs of dancing bodies for her.

Four years of not being around her, not seeing her every minute he could, really seemed to build up.

But she found him. The moment her fingers ghosted his wrist, he knew it was her.

She led him out the back to the pebbly lake side. The grounds around the house were littered with students and laughter and it didn't feel real.

The feel of her hand in his was the only thing that mattered.

Massie Block was a lot of things.

Fearless. Ambitious. Loving. Loyal. Kind. Intelligent.

His first kiss. First girlfriend. First love.

Their falling out occurred just before freshman year. It was mutual; they both agreed that they were done, that they needed to grow. He had been fine with it (if you could consider not leaving your room for a week straight as fine).

They were perfectly pleasant to each other following their split—that is, when they interacted. For the most part they went about high school separately.

He supposed it was somewhat appropriate he would finish it with her.

"I don't want high school to end," she confessed, leaning against his shoulder. "High school is stupid and shallow and filled with stupid and shallow people. And yet I don't want it to end. Is that fucked up or what?"

"Not really," he said, playing with the ends of her hair. "It's familiar. And it's hard to leave the known for the unknown."

Kids come running past them on their way to the water, stripping off articles of clothing as they go. A girl laughs as another boy picks her up and throws her over his shoulder and sprints into the waves.

"I guess the last thing I ever learn in high school is that Olivia Ryan owns granny panties," Massie commented. He laughed into the side of her head, planting a kiss on the side of her hair.

They would be fine, somehow. High school was not infinite. Their live would not end with high school. Her life would not end with high school. His life would not end with high school.

_Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always._


End file.
